Wheezy's Sweet Sixteen
by Humungus
Summary: It's Ron's16th birthday, and there's a party in Gryffindor dorm. Three problems: Ron's feeling seriously frustrated, Hermione's feeling a bit too happy for her own good - and Harry is about to feel extremely embarrassed. Come on, we're all invited! R&R!


DISCLAIMER: As usual, I make no claim to any of the characters in here. They belong to JKR. This is just a bit of daft entertainment for fellow HP fans. Roll on Book 5.

Author's Note: In England, "mate" means buddy, or pal.

WHEEZY'S SWEET SIXTEEN

One more day to go, to the big 1 – 6. 

"Sixteen years old…" grumbled Ron.

"…and never been kissed?" 

Ron looked up with a scowl that rapidly collapsed into a smirk.

"Watch it, Potter!" 

Harry grinned at him across the table. Ron was notorious for his clumsiness with the opposite sex. To Harry, Ron was a guy in a million. To the majority of Hogwarts girls, Ron was at best harmless – at worst, charmless. Not that Harry could claim to be experienced in the girlfriend department. But at least girls actually liked him.

"What's so bad about being sixteen then?" 

"What's so great about it? It's a bit too far on for presents and cake isn't it? It'll just be another day mate…"

Harry was a bit stuck for a reply. When Ron had a problem, he'd usually talk to Harry, and Harry would understand what the problem was and offer advice. This time, there wasn't actually anything wrong with Ron, as far as he could see. 

"You sound a bit – depressed…" 

"Yeah well, these days no-one's got a lot to cheer about have they?"

With that, Ron stood up, mumbling a "see y'later" and left the breakfast table.

Harry watched him go and frowned. He was right of course; these weren't the best of times. But as they'd reminded themselves over and over, what every one needed more than anything right now, was a good laugh. Birthdays were an unmissable opportunity for fun, he thought, with or without the presents - or the bloody cake. 

"I'm really sorry Ron Weasley," he muttered to himself, "you are going to have a good sixteenth, whether you want to or not."

Harry wandered off to the Owlery. He knew just who to consult where matters of fun and frolics were concerned - Messrs. F and G Weasley, of 'Weasley's Wizard Wheezes.' 

Hedwig swooped down soundlessly from her perch. She settled on Harry's arm and pecked at a long strand of his messy hair. With one yellow eye, she stared beams of disapproval at Pigwigeon, Ron's hyperactive little owl, who was fluttering nearby. If Pig was hoping for a titbit or two from Harry, it would be over _his_ dead body.

Harry stroked Hedwig's snowy wings and whispered gentle nonsense to her. Finally he reached into his pocket and fed her a couple of owl treats. 

"Will you take this to Ron's brothers for me?"

Hedwig blinked rapidly and swivelled her head around.

"I only mean Fred and George."

She gave a soft hoot and held out her leg for Harry's letter.

He watched her soar out of the Owlery roof and away to the south. Then, since it was nearly nine o'clock, he ran off to Professor McGonagall's classroom for the first lesson of the day.

Ron's mood didn't seem to improve much over the rest of the morning, and since the afternoon consisted of double potions with Snape, Harry didn't expect it to get better before the evening. In fact, it was during teatime when things started to look up. 

Harry was just tucking into a third helping of beef stew and dumplings, when an airborne commotion heralded the return of Hedwig, and Pigwidgeon accompanying her, with much excited twittering and squawking. Harry's owl swooped low and deposited a small and very neatly wrapped box into his lap. Not to be outdone, Pig dropped a dead mouse into Ron's rice pudding. 

"Oh Pig! You gormless feathery git!" yelled Ron.

Hermione glared disapproval over her new reading glasses. She didn't really need to wear them, but she felt they added something to her new prefect's image. 

"And you needn't start huffing Hermione," he grumbled.

Harry was more interested in the letter that was attached to the parcel. It bore the unmistakable scribble of the older Weasleys.

Dear H,

Sorry to hear that our 'ickle Ronniekins needs cheering up. We've sent you our newest product – ALMOST instant moonbeer. In the box are enough granules to make 36 bottles, and that should be enough for a decent Gryffindor party. You'll need a bloody big cauldron and a nice quiet place to prepare it, but it only takes three hours to brew. 

Tell that great lanky misery to make a birthday wish too – that he gets laid soon!

Hope you all have a good time - we'll be in touch.

FRED & GEORGE

"I know who that's from!" said Ron.

"Errrm yeah, let's open it upstairs," said Harry quickly.

Both glanced quickly across the table.

"Oh don't worry, I won't be offended, I know it'll be guys' stuff," said Hermione, rather tartly, "You two go on up, I've got revise for my Arithmancy test this evening, anyhow."

"Great, see y'later Herm," said Ron, patting her shoulder.

The common room was too full of first years and prefects for Harry to feel happy about opening the parcel there. So he and Ron found themselves lying on Harry's bed, reading the instructions for the Almost Instant Moonbeer.

"So there, Ron. No cake and stuff, but how about us having the best dorm party in years?" 

"You're on mate," Ron replied, with a wide grin, "and sorry for being such a grumpy sod this morning."

"Used to it – hardly noticed," said Harry, pulling a face to imitate a melancholic Ron.

Ron swiped Harry around the head with the cuddly toy owl Hermione had made him for Christmas. 

"C'mon then, let's get on with it," he said, "and it should be ready by …eleven o'clock." 

"Right – we need all this stuff," said Harry, pointing at the instructions on the side of the box.

The Almost Instant Moonbeer needed no extra ingredients, apart from water, but the instructions did specify a quiet spot for brewing, and a clear view of the full moon. Fortunately, the older Weasleys knew plenty about the phases of the moon, and had chosen just the right weekend for their little brother's present to work. 

They were lucky that Neville had received a giant sized, ultra reinforced cauldron from his relatives last Christmas, in the hope that even he couldn't burn a hole through that one. It took much puffing and grunting (and swearing) before it was safely positioned on the deep stone sill of the dormitory window. It was the one that Harry liked to sit in and gaze out across the Hogwarts grounds, when he wanted some thinking time to himself. Not that there would much thinking going on after a few glasses of Moonbeer; it was about as strong as muggle beers, and its effects weren't always predictable either.

"Great," said Ron, "full moon, clear as anything."

Harry was enchanting the large jug on his night stand to magically fill itself from the tap, and empty into the cauldron exactly twenty two times.

"Yeah, should be ready just about ten past eleven," said Harry, sprinkling the contents of the box into the water. It was a dark green powder, which smelt faintly of damp changing rooms.

Ron was searching around the bedsides and in cupboards for drinking cups and glassware. He paused when he reached his own bed, and thought for a while.

"Err – how many will there be at this party?"

"Well, you and me, Seamus, Dean and Neville, I suppose."

"No Hermione then?"

"Get real Ron, she's the world's best prefect these days! In the running for a Percy Award no doubt… and anyway, I thought we'd just enjoy a lads' dorm party."

"Yeah okay, that all seems pretty much as normal," murmured Ron.

It was only at ten forty-five that Harry and Ron found out why Moonbeer was so called. Even down in the common room, with the buzz of conversation and the crackling fire, it could be heard howling in its cauldron. Neville was inside the dormitory at the time and came hurtling down the stairs.

"Harry, Harry, there's a werewolf outside our window!"

Harry grabbed him by the arm before too many people noticed. He whispered something to Neville who looked slightly embarrassed. 

"Yes, of course, silly me, I knew werewolves don't fly…"

It was unfortunate that among the people who heard the howling and witnessed the arrival of Neville, was Hermione. She shut her Arithmancy book with a loud slam.

"Really, this is impossible. The library should be open 'til midnight when we have exams coming. How can anyone revise with all this racket?"

She stared impatiently at Harry and Ron. 

"Come on then, what's the story?"

The boys stared blankly.

"The howling? Or has Seamus got Pansy Parkinson up there again?"

Ron gave her a pleading look.

"It's something for my birthday."

"Really? Then I'd better see for myself."

Before either of them could protest, she had set off up the stairs to the boys dormitory. She called out a brief warning, and marched through the door. The two boys were just behind her.

"What is that smell?"

"Errm - that's guys' stuff too, Herm," said Ron.

"Charming…" she replied.

Just then, the Moonbeer gave an almighty shriek, which caused the curtain concealing it, to flap wildly.

"I should have guessed," she scolded, "Almost Instant Moonbeer!"

"How did you know?" asked Harry.

"Because I'm on his older brothers' mailing list, for some reason. They've tried to sell me everything from ton tongue toffee to dragonfart spray."

There was an awkward pause.

"Well Herm," said Harry, "you're a prefect, you should confiscate it, I suppose."

Hermione looked horrified. 

"Credit me with some humanity, I'm also one of your best friends! I hadn't forgotten Ron's birthday you know – and it would be nice to be thought of as just Hermione, once in a while!" 

"Well then, just Hermione," said Ron, "would you please stay for my birthday bash?"

Hermione nodded.

"Yes I will, since you've asked."

The door opened and Dean, Seamus and Neville came tumbling in. They immediately fixed their eyes on Hermione.

"Oh lovely," said Seamus, "I guess this means the party's off."

"No actually," said Hermione, "it means that the party is going to be rather better than it would have been otherwise."

The Moonbeer tasted like icy custard, with a hint off raw cabbage and cinnamon cake thrown in. Ron decided it was almost as wicked as Butterbeer, but harder to drink because it gave him hiccoughs. He had been trying to engage Hermione in conversation, but she found the constant burping interruptions too much cope with, and went off in search of Neville.

"Happy birthday mate," said Harry.

"Hic – cheers," Ron answered.

Harry sat down next to him, on the floor at the end of his four-poster bed. They sat there for the best part of an hour, talking about anything that occurred to them, taking turns to fetch the Moonbeers. Eventually, Ron's hiccoughs had subsided, and they had been able to have a normal conversation. Then they noticed that one voice in the room was growing louder than everyone else's. It was Hermione.

"Hello again!" she sang out, as she made her way carefully over to where they were sitting. Rather awkwardly, she squashed down between them, forcing Harry to either shuffle rapidly sideways, or be sat on.

"Hey Hermione, I'm really glad you hic! - came to my party," said Ron.

"Oh yes, birthdays," she giggled, "nearly forgot about you!" 

And then she hugged and gave Ron a kiss on his cheek that brought a very large smile to his freckled face.

"And as for you," she turned to Harry, "C'm'ere!"

It didn't take long for Harry, and even Ron, to realise that Hermione was rather drunk. What made it worse, was that she seemed to be paying Harry a great deal of close attention.

"Hello, Harry Potter," she said very slowly, before doubling up into laughter.

"Herm," began Ron.

"No, no, shut up now, birthday boy – you've had the traditional kiss."

Ron looked rather put out, but even now Hermione had nuzzled her face into Harry's ear.

"I think you're very good looking Harry."

"Thanks."

"All the girls agree, you know."

"Do they?"

"Yeee –sss, especially one girl.."

"Oh, who would that be?"

Harry shut his eyes, thinking he knew what was coming next. He could smell Hermione's Moonbeer breath.

"Moaning Myrtle!"

Ron dissolved into hiccoughing hysterics.

Harry went a slightly pink colour.

"It's true, I was talking to her this afternoon. She says…" Hermione broke off into giggles and Harry began to feel slightly annoyed.

"She says you've got the cutest little…" 

At this point Hermione obviously intended to whisper in Harry's ear, but her words were audible to everyone.

Harry went very red indeed.

"Hermione!"

Ron stopped laughing. 

"Little! No way! Has she got him mixed up with someone else?"

"RON!"

Harry looked so shocked, that if his eyes had opened any wider, one of them would probably have dropped into his Moonbeer.

"Well, it's true mate!" stammered Ron.

"To be sure it is Harry," said Seamus, as he Dean and Neville came over, "you've given the rest of the dorm a major inferiority complex…"

Harry closed his eyes and groaned in serious embarrassment. 

"That's it! We're way past your bedtime Miss Granger," he said.

The problem of how to smuggle out Hermione in her present state, was solved by Seamus, who announced that he was going off to spend the night with Pansy Parkinson. Hermione was deposited, fully clothed, on his bed, and the curtains pulled around.

As Ron and Harry changed into their pyjamas, the two of them went over the events of the party in fits of noisy giggles. Eventually, lying in bed, Ron became thoughtful.

"You know, Harry, the three of us have been together, through every kind of danger this side of Hell, and this is the first time we've all slept in the same room."

"First time for everything," mumbled Harry, sleepily.

"I hope so mate," thought Ron, "I hope so!"


End file.
